Columbine: The Untold Story Of Dylan Klebold
by Disneygirl8
Summary: Dylan is sick of being bullied all the time, and he will get his revenge...
1. Columbine Chapter 1 Sleepless

**Columbine; Chapter 1**

I couldn't sleep… again. I was thinking about tomorrow. Am I really gonna do this? I checked the time, 12:34am. It's already the day. My stomach hurt. I got up to go to the bathroom and as I passed by my parents' bedroom and stopped in front of the door. It was open just a bit so I looked in. I saw my parents sleeping soundly, as my eyes began to fill with tears, when my mom woke up suddenly.

"Dylan?" She said, sitting herself up.

"Yeah?" I asked, as my voice cracked.

"You Ok?"

"Yeah," I answered "Fine"

"You sure?" She said uncertain.

"Yeah, mom. Good night." Wanting to end the conversation.

"Good night, I love you." She said, lying back down.

"Love you too…" I mumbled, walking away.

As I entered my room again, I looked around. Who have I become? I don't even know myself anymore, Breaking into a car, stealing computers? That's not me. I don't know what happened. I just stopped caring about everything. Nothing interests me and I just don't care anymore.

What am I gonna do tomorrow? I can't back out, he'll kill me, literally. And I do want to make them pay, but not like this, not taking their lives. Why does that have to be the way we get back at them? What will my parents think? How can I leave them with only the memories of the crime I committed and lives I tore apart? I don't really want to hurt anyone, I just want to stick a gun in the faces of those who laugh, and taunt and tease and make them regret ever saying all those things they did and all the things they through at me and all the ways they tortured me for years. I'm so full of anger now and I just want to show them that they're the ones who are wrong, not me. They're the ones who fucked me up.

I closed my eyes and played back my day, remembering walking down the hall, when one of those damn jocks came from behind and shoved me into the lockers. "Fag!" He yelled, high-fiving his friends as they laughed. Fuck did it hurt. I looked down and ignored them, when they looked back at me. I could hear the loud laughter as it echoed through the halls. Man, it pissed me off. "Fuck." I said under my breath. Why did they think they were so much better than us?

I turn on to my side, and opened my eyes. 12:56. I closed my eyes again and turned on to my back and began to drift into a dark sleep.

(This is simply what I believe Dylan Klebold, one of the shooters of the Columbine Massacre, might have been like or thought of throughout the remainder of this event. I DO NOT want to offend anyone or hurt anyone and I do not necessarily agree with these thought and do not blame anyone! This is just what I feel he might have felt like but does not justify his actions. THIS IS NOT REALLY what he thought (We don't know for sure)


	2. Columbine Chapter 2 The Nightmare

**Columbine;Chapter 2 The Nightmare**

As I began to drift away, I saw her face in front of mine. Her brown eyes sparkled as they always did, as he long blonde hair feel upon her beautiful pale face. I reached my hand forward to tuck it behind her ear, but before I could reach her, she was pulled by the waste, by a strong looking silhouette. I looked closer to see who it was. It was him, the one who pushed me in the lockers. "Fag!" I heard him yell, as he had done before. I tried to conceal my anger but as I saw him begin to walk away with her, I screamed and pulled out a gun. I shot him in the back 3 times. He fell to the ground and dragged himself towards me, bleeding. As he looked up at me, I saw the anger in his eyes. He grabbed the gun out of my hands, and slowly got up. He began to walk towards me slowly, gun still in hand. As he got closer, he began to turn into someone else, Eric. He lifted the gun and pointed it at my face. "You shouldn't have done that." He said, pulling the trigger.

I jolted up in bed, sweaty. It was just a dream, I told myself, trying to regain control and to stop shaking. My eyes began to fill with tears again. Was that a sign? Am I supposed to go through with this? I could hardly breathe. I checked the time. 3:37 am.

I lay down again, wondering what would happen tomorrow; would everything go according to plan? And what about the end, will that be it? Or will we be stopped. If they think they can stop up, they're wrong. No one can stop Eric, especially not when he's got a gun in his hands. As the day gets closer and closer, the more I think it's a bad idea. But then I think of all those years of torture, that time of being laughed at for being different and all those days of people whispering about me when they thought I wasn't listening. Alright, I'll do it, I told myself.

I got up and turned on my light. I pulled out my journal, and began to draw. I drew what I would wear tomorrow and made a list beside the drawing of gear we would use and I had to bring. I sat there and thought about who I would shoot. No one innocent I hoped. Maybe I should just shoot at them and pretend I have no aim. When tomorrow rolls around, I will show no emotion, no compassion and no regret. I couldn't.


	3. Columbine Chapter 3 Goodbye

**Columbine Chap 3 Bye**

I opened my eyes to a dark room, with one ray of sun shining though. As I sat up, I remembered what day it was, 420. Remembering, I lay back down, not wanting to leave my warm bed. I closed my eyes, and pictured the school, filled with people. I could see their faces when saw what we had for them, ducking under tables, crying. They'll finally see that we won't take any more of their bullshit. Maybe it'll teach them a lesson, and not just them, everyone. The whole country will know that they pushed me too far. They're the ones who fucked me up.

I got up, out of bed, motivated by my anger and thirst for revenge. I looked in the mirror, into my own eyes. My eyes were blue, but for some reason, this morning the seemed grey, dead even. There was no life to them, no purpose behind them, except revenge.

I got dressed and brushed my teeth like I did every day, but with motivation. As I stood at the top of the stairs, I could hear my mom, making breakfast. I debated whether I should go down and talk to her. What would I say? "Hey mom, thanks for raising me but this is the last time I'll see you." No. I couldn't bear to talk to her, she'd see. She'd see the tears in my eyes, and the grey behind them. She would know something was wrong, just by looking at me. She always knows when something's wrong. I walked fast down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't see me. I could feel a big lump in my throat just thinking about her reaction when she hears what I've done.

I swallowed, clenched my jaw. This was it. This would be the last time I'd be in my house. I looked around. What went wrong, I asked myself. I saw my long, black trench coat hanging on the coat rack. I grabbed and put it on. I looked around one more time and said my goodbyes to the place I called home. I felt like I was going off to war, but with no chance of return.

"Dyl?" She said, I guess she heard me coming down the stairs.

"Bye" I said, quickly. My voice cracked, as my eyes filled with tears again. I whipped them away, angry I was being so weak.


	4. Columbine Chapter 4 A Monster?

**Columbine Chapter 4; A Monster?**

As I slammed the door behind me, I felt the sun on my face; Warm and bright, and completely wrong. I saw the black car pull up in front of the driveway. I could hear the loud music. As soon as I saw him, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and put on a fake smile. I looked back one more time for a last glimpse of my house and of emotion. I opened the door and got in to the car.

"Hey" Eric said, turning down the music.

"Hi." I said kind of mumbling.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" He said, looking up at me in disgust.

"Nothing. Let's fucking do this." I said, with a cruel voice, with the fakest smile I've ever smiled.

"Fuck yeah!" He said turning up the music.

As I listened to the music, I began to wonder who would show at my funeral. Would I even have one? Would it be a joint one with Eric? Would anyone from school come? Fuck no! Not in a million years. They'll all think I'm a monster. But what about her? Would she see why this happened, why I have to do this? Or will she hate me, like everyone else?

Eric turned down the radio again but I didn't notice.

"Did you bring everything?" He asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Uh, Yeah." I answered coming back to earth.

"Good, We can't fuck this up. We fuck this up and we got to jail for life. And not together." He said.

"Do you think anyone would visit us?" I asked, wondering if he was thinking what I was.

"Fuck no! Everyone's gonna fucking hate our guts. Why?"

"Uh, just wondering." I said, lying.

We kept driving. Once I saw the school, my stomach dropped. I thought I was going to throw up. Once we pulled up, I checked the time; 11:10 am. We parked and got all our stuff ready.

"You ready to do this?" He asked, in a voice that scared me. It was so evil and dark. I could tell her really wanted to do this, more than I did.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound like him. The more I thought about how he felt, the more I also wanted revenge. "Let's go."


	5. Columbine Chapter 5 Go Home

**Columbine Chapter 5 Go home**

As I stepped out of the car, I looked at the school. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. What the fuck was I doing? Eric and I stood right in front of the car and looked ahead.

One of our friends noticed us in the parking lot. I looked at Eric wondering if he would shoot him. But he just kept looking at him. He walked up to us, with a lit cigarette in his hand.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Man?" Brooks asked Eric. "You weren't in third hour today. You missed the test." He said while smoking the cigarette. Eric looked at him and laughed.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Eric said in a dark voice taking out one of the blue duffle bags from the backseat.

"Yeah, whatever" Brooks muttered.

"Brooks, I like you now. Get out of here. Go home." Eric said looking back at him.

Brooks turned around and walked away without a word.

"Alright," He said, determined, "let's kill those fuckers."

We began to walk side by side, guns hidden under our long, black trench coats. The school disappeared, hidden by the hill as we got closer. We began to walk up the hill, it felt like we were practically running, I was running out of breathe, my head hurt, but when I looked down at my feet, I was just walking normally. I looked over at Eric, he looked so angry but then he looked over at me and gave an evil smile. I smiled back. We had to do this. They weren't going to get away with those years of being fucking assholes to us for no reason. As the school reappeared slowly, I began to feel sick again. We reached the top when Eric suddenly stopped. We looked around, at everyone sitting outside; eating, smoking, talking.

"They have no fucking clue." I said to Eric, quietly, trying not to bring attention to myself as I had done nearly every day of my life.

"Let the games begin." Eric said to me.

We both pulled out our guns from our long trench coats and load up. Eric took aim and began to fire. The first gunshot made me jump out of my skin. I took my first shot. The sound hurt my ears. I didn't hit anyone. I don't want to hit any of these people. We began to walk down the hill and kept shooting. I didn't stop even though I wanted to. I didn't know any of these people.


	6. Columbine Chapter 6 Why?

**Columbine Chapter 6 Why?**

We kept shooting and walking down the hill. I hit someone in the ankle. "Oh, Fuck!" I said, but no one could hear me over the gunshots. Eric hit one kid who instantly dropped to the floor, I knew he was dead. He just laid there in a pool of blood. He was only in grade nine, I thought to myself. I started shooting the school doors; glass was flying everywhere, as two people behind the doors ducked. As we got closer to the doors, we kept shooting at everyone around us. I hadn't really gotten anyone but that girl in the ankle. I'll only pretend I'm trying to shoot them and just shoot around them. I didn't mean to hit her.

As we arrived at the doors, Eric opened it. We walked through the halls when Eric said, "Shoot anyone you see." I nodded with a sick smile. We turned to the left, approaching the library. As we got closer, we reloaded our guns. When we entered the library, Eric shot once. Everyone hid under the tables, except for one kid, sitting at a computer and before anyone could tell him to get down, Eric shot him. Oh shit! He shot the disabled kid! What the fuck!

I lost all colour in my face and began to tear up again. I thought I was going to throw up. "Are we going to do this or not?" Eric said looking up at me. I shook out of it. "Yeah" I said, pretending I didn't feel bad.

Eric and I split up and began walking around. I looked over at him, he was standing at a table, which had two girls sitting underneath it. I knew one of them. Rachel Scott. I had known here since kindergarten. Just last week she saw at the talent show, and the tap messed up and we saved her performance. She was shaking and praying out loud now. Eric wasn't going to like that. I could tell this wasn't going to end well. At that moment I heard Eric slam his fist on the table twice. He crouched down to their level. They could see his face now. He looked at them, pointed his gun. "Peek-a-boo" I gunshot went off. She was dead.

I saw a girl under a table where I was. I shot her in the knee, and he scream of horror rang in everyone's ears. I grabbed by the hair, hoping Eric was watching.

"Do you believe in God?" I asked her, wondering if he was real and if so why he chose me to do this, to live this life.

"You know I do!" She looked up at me, tears and such hate in her eyes. I knew I would never forget that look. The gun I held to her head began to shake, I was shaking.

"Why!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, as my eyes also began to fill with tears.

She began to answer but I threw here on to the ground and began to walk in the other direction, not caring why she did, but more why I did.

"Dylan." I heard a familiar voice say. I looked over. It was Eric. He was waking me over. I walked over wondering what he wanted me there for.

"Look." He said, as his dark smile began to reappear. We both crouched down to look under the table. And there they sat, three jocks.


	7. Columbine Chapter 7 What are you doing?

**Columbine Chapter 7 What are you doing?**

Eric looked at the black kid, and said something I promised myself I would never repeat. Then he shot the black kid and laughed. I laughed too and shot the other jock, who had shoved me in the lockers so many times before. Eric got up and I noticed the third one wasn't dead. I didn't say anything. He looked at me, with his friend's blood on his face. I lifted my gun and took aim, when I heard someone yell. "What are you doing!" I looked over at a girl hiding under the table. "Just killing people." I replied, as I walked to the other end of the library.

We looked out the library window; the parking lot was filled with cops and the SWAT team. "Let's shoot some cops." Eric said. We began to shoot out the window and they began to shoot at us, but no one was hit.

We went back to shooting those in the library, and it became hard to miss people. I had lost count of how many Eric had. At lease 20, was my guess. Eric stopped what he was doing and came up to me. "C'mon" He said. As we began to head towards the exit of the library where we had entered, we passed by the black kid's body again. "Look at his brains!" He laughed. I began to feel nauseous again, but smiled at him and pretended to laugh.

We walked out of the library, down the hall, when we saw a teacher, running away. Coach Sanders, the football coach. Within a second of seeing him, Eric raised his gun and shot him. He fell flat on his face and didn't move.

We walked down the stairs to the cafeteria, where so many people had already evacuated. I could still see some left under the tables. Eric opened the blue duffle bag and took out one of the bombs we had made the week before. He handed it to me. Without a word, I lit it and threw if to the middle of the cafeteria. Within 5 seconds, it went up in flames. I saw a can of coke on the table and took a sip. Who cares if I were to get sick or mono or some shit like that; I'll probably be dead within the next hour.

We shot a few bullets across the room, when Eric got down on one knee, and took aim like he had recently done at the shooting range. When that got boring, we headed back to the library to see how many people we had killed.

As we walked down the halls, we looked into classrooms, just to see if there was anyone we needed dead that we might have missed. We looked in the windows and a few people looked back at us. "Holy fuck, they're all scared shitless. We've done our job." Eric said as we kept walking.

As we were heading back, we passed by the bathroom. "Come out," Eric said. "We know you're in there." We both laughed. We never entered the bathroom; we just wanted to scare them. That's all this is, right? A big scare, teaching them a lesson of two.

We turned the corner, re-entering the library. It was empty. Everyone had left, except those who were shot. The blood was everywhere. I began to realize what we had done. I began to sweat and my tears reappeared.


	8. Columbine Chapter 8 No you won't!

**Columbine Chapter 8 No you're not!**

As we walked towards the back of the library, just a s we had planned, I kept looking around. There were school bags everywhere, blood and those who had died remained there. I looked at the bodies of people I didn't even know had gotten show. Eric must've killed them. I looked back at the body of the disabled kid by the computer. How could he do that? I know I wouldn't have been able to do that.

Once we arrived to the place we had planned to end it all, we stopped and looked around. Eric was smiling, but I couldn't even bring myself to fake one this time. I began to shed the tears I held in all day. I whipped them away, violently but Eric didn't notice. He just kept smiling and looking around, pleased with himself.

"Maybe we should turn ourselves in." I said, in desperation, hoping he would feel the same. How could he not.

He looked at me, no longer smiling. He had so much rage in his eyes.

"Do you even hear what you're saying?" He said, talking to me like I was stupid.

"Maybe dying isn't enough of a punishment." actually, at this point it seemed more like a blessing.

"Fuck no." He said. He wasn't going to think about it.

"But what about the people who didn't torture us? We killed them too."

"They deserved it. They all did." He said, looking back at the destruction we caused.

"That's it, I'm turning myself in." I began to walk away as the tears rolled down my face again. I wanted my life to end, but not without some sort of punishment for what I did. Suicide would be the easy way out.

"No, you're NOT!" I heard Eric scream. I turned around. He had the gun pointed at me. Before I could say anything, he shot.


	9. Columbine Chapter 9 I'm there

**Columbine chapter 9 I'm there**

I swear I felt the bullet go through my temple. I fell to the floor and looked up at the ceiling. I saw Eric look down at me. His eyes began to fill with tears. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry. I struggled to breathe but tried not to make a sound. I didn't want Eric to notice I could still hear him. He sat up against the bookcase and hugged his knees. He rested his head on his knees and began to cry. I felt a tear of my own roll down my face. I could hear police car sirens and the voice of parents screaming. "Fuck" I heard him whisper. He lifted his head and looked at me. He whipped his eyes and grabbed his gun again. While he loaded his gun, his eyes never left what was left of me. He put it to his head and shot.

I began to cry harder. Why? My pulse began to slow down and I could feel the end of my short, sad life approaching faster and faster every second. As I took my last few, pointless breathes, I wondered if my mom knew? Did she care? Do people know it was us yet? I began to close my eyes and breathed my last breath as one last tear rolled down.

And now I'm here, somewhere between heaven and hell. I watch those who are living the life I wish I had had. I'm alone, and have no idea where Eric and everyone who died that day are. I watch the faces of everyone when they first read about what I did, as they're faces look at my picture with hate and disgust. I think of what I did every day and wish I hadn't. I watch my family everyday as they live their lives, wishing they could have done something to help me. Every time someone writes a story, a poem or an essay about the Columbine Massacre. Every time someone thinks about me, or what I've done, I'm there, with them. I would be thirty years old if I was alive today and not a day goes by where I don't think about how I'm frozen in time as a 17-year-old. And I watch the world, and not a day goes by where I hope others don't do what I did because I regret it and pay for it now.


End file.
